


The 17th Of The Month And All That Implies

by indigorose50



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Birthday, Friendship, Gen, Mild Spoilers, Nonbinary My Unit | Byleth, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:35:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23702443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigorose50/pseuds/indigorose50
Summary: Everyone seems to have an opinion on how Hubert should spend his birthday.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg & Hubert von Vestra, Hubert von Vestra & Everyone
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	The 17th Of The Month And All That Implies

**Author's Note:**

> A birthday fic for Hubert, AKA how many things can I give this boy to drink.
> 
> Anyway I love Hubert von Vestra and I need him to be happy here we go-

Hubert von Vestra knew everything that went on in Her Majesty’s army. He knew exactly how much they spent replacing lances, how many aids were needed in the stables, what kind of boots the infantry used, where they acquired their shields, and, to the ounce, how many coffee beans he required to keep track of it all.

What Hubert had forgotten was his own birthday.

Of course he knew it was the 17th of the month. It was just that he registered it the same way one registers a new flower growing outside the dining hall; you  _ know _ there is a flower there but you don’t think about who planted and tended to it— and what could it matter?

At exactly midnight on the 17th, Hubert was still awake. A few more papers needed his signature and he always looked over Edelgard’s speech notes a week in advance. The soft knock at his bedroom door did not alarm him. Assassins never knock. But there was not another knock, which meant the person had quickly given up on getting his attention. 

That was just odd enough that Hubert stood from his desk and opened the door. The dormitory was quiet. All but Hubert had gone to sleep; he had heard Edelgard pacing next door until half an hour ago and Caspar’s snores had preceded that. 

On the ground right in front of his door was a small box. Hubert stared at it for a few beats, just to make sure it wasn’t rigged to explode or something similar. When nothing happened whatsoever, Hubert scooped up the box and went back inside. 

Hubert set the box on his desk and looked over the proud bow sitting atop it. Then he let out a soft “Oh” as realization hit him.

* * *

“You  _ forgot _ ?” Bernadetta repeated, dropping her fork into her eggs. 

Hubert, clutching his coffee with both hands, nodded. “If it weren’t for your gift, I might have forgotten until this very moment. You have my thanks twofold.”

“Y-You’re welcome. I just didn’t know if I could give it to you face to face.” She picked up her fork again with a slight frown. “But, really? I can’t imagine you forgetting… well,  _ anything _ .”

“With the war approaching a likely end there have been other things to think about.”

“But you remember everyone else’s birthdays!”

Hubert raised an eyebrow. “I assure you I do not remember the birthday of everyone in this army.”

“You know what I mean,” she said with a hint of aggression. Hubert blinked in the face of it. “You gave Ferdinand that expensive tea last year.”

“I’ve known Ferdinand most of my life. It’s logical that I would remember—”

“And I saw you give Ingrid new riding boots.”

“She used to be a classmate, of course I know—”

“And!” Bernadetta pointed her fork at him, meal forgotten. “And! Last month you gave Shamir all those sunflowers!”

The dining hall, sleepy as it was this early, was staring at Bernadetta now. Likely it was due to how she was speaking and who she was speaking in such a way to, not  _ what _ she was saying. Hubert hoped so anyway.

All the eyes seemed to wilt Bernadetta. She sank in her seat, hiding her face in her hands. Hubert took a bit of toast and chased it down with a mouthful of coffee. “They’re gone,” he said after a few moments.

Bernadetta peeked out from between her fingers and breathed a sigh when she saw no one was looking at them anymore. “S-Sorry,” she whimpered. 

“You’re right,” Hubert said, keeping his eyes off her just in case she became spooked again. “I do keep track of birthdays. It helps with morale— the Professor does the same thing.”

“I-I just mean that you deserve a happy birthday, too.” Bernadetta took a small bite of her breakfast. “Even if just f-for your morale.”

Hubert finished his coffee and stood. “Thank you again for the gift but my morale is perfectly fine. Please excuse me.” Ignoring Bernadetta’s stuttered apology, he made to leave the dining hall. 

And literally ran into Ignatz.

“Ah, sorry, Hubert!” Ignatz smiled as he righted his glasses. “But I’m glad I caught you. Byleth wanted to speak to you. They’re out by the docks.”

Hubert dusted off his vest more to make a point than because he spotted damage. “I am sure we will speak plenty at the meeting in a few minutes but thank you.”

Ignatz cocked his head. “Didn’t you hear? Edel- Um, Emperor Edelgard cancelled non-emergency meetings today.”

Saying “didn’t you hear” to the Emperor's right hand man was normally pointless. In this case, however, Ignatz could have told Hubert he had secretly been Dimitri this whole time and Hubert would not have been more shocked. “She cancelled them,” Hubert echoed flatly.

“Yes,” Ignatz went on, “Alois has been telling everyone but I guess he thought you knew already?”

“I see...” Hubert was so busy revising his mental schedule of the day that he barely noticed Ignatz rummaging through his bag. 

A rolled piece of paper was shoved into Hubert’s hands, making him fall back a step and jogging him back into the real world. “Let me give you this before I forget,” Ignatz said with an overbright grin. “I hope you like it! I might have gone overboard with the colors but I wanted to get your magic right so I tired a few different techniques and Lysithea kept saying—” His mouth shut with such force that Hubert heard his teeth clack together. “Sorry, I’m rambling. Happy birthday! And don’t forget to see Byleth!” 

This last bit was said over his shoulder as Ignatz left, embarrassment coloring his cheeks. He sat down at Bernadetta’s table and the two started whispering. Hubert didn’t pay them further attention. He carefully tucked the scroll away and went to find their  _ dear _ Professor.

* * *

The scent of cinnamon was heavy in the air, nearly overpowering the flowers around the table. Hubert watched as Byleth poured a little milk into their cup. His own tea was spared such sacrament and he took a fortifying sip before saying without preamble, “Please don’t tell me Her Majesty canceled the day’s meetings just for my birthday.”

Byleth stirred in the milk and did not speak. 

Hubert settled back into his chair, dragging a hand down his face. “This is absurd.”

“I never thought I would hear you call Edelgard absurd.”

“That is not what I meant.” Hubert started to cross his arms, heard the crinkle of Ignatz’s scroll being pressed, and abruptly set his hands on the table instead. “We have a major battle coming up. This is not the time to fuss over birthdays.” 

Byleth hummed and drank deeply. “I believe it’s less about your birthday and more about that major battle.”

“Meaning?”

“This is the last real excuse we have to celebrate anything,” Byleth said bluntly. “We don’t know where we will be in two week’s time. Having one day off won’t kill anyone.”

Bees flit between the flowers. Their buzzing was the only noise at the moment. Hubert mulled over Byleth’s words as he gingerly picked up his teacup. The scent of cinnamon washed over him anew as he brought the cup to his lips. Was there wisdom in Byleth’s words? Forgoing a whole day of planning in the middle of a war just for merriment was childish, no matter how high their upper hand. 

“It’s worth noting,” Byleth said, bringing Hubert out of his thoughts, “that we don’t need your permission to do this. Edelgard already canceled the meetings and I’ve increased patrols just in case. We don’t need you to agree.” Their smile was not unlike Edelgard’s when she knew Hubert would not refuse her. Those two spent too much time together.

Hubert sighed, his fingers tracing over the tome Byleth had given him before they had sat down. “I assume there is a party planned for today then.”

“Yes. And Dorothea worked hard to put it together so you have to go.”

* * *

Hubert did indeed go to the party but only because Dorothea showed up at his office right at the lunch hour to wind her arm around his and drag him downstairs. “Merci and her brother made a lovely cake and you are going to eat some  _ without _ comment,” she said, a very parental note in her voice.

Having the Death Knight make him a cake was just strange enough that Hubert allowed the arm to remain. “Am I allowed to compliment it?” 

“Only if you really mean it.”

The dining hall was more packed than normal. Hubert’s nerves shot up at the idea of so few eyes guarding their base. But one look at Byleth calmed him. They gave Hubert a stern nod and rested a hand on the hilt of the Sword of the Creator strapped to their side. 

“Hey! Old man!” Came Caspar’s voice from the kitchens. “Can we cut the cake now?! Annette keeps saying we have to wait for you first!”

In the end, Byleth ended up being correct— though the Strike Force gave Hubert gifts and some others wished him a happy birthday, the party was less in celebration of  _ him _ and more of pure celebration itself. Soldiers drank, the food reserves were dug into, bawdy songs rang out, and a few fights (started by Caspar and ended by Petra) sprang up.

Hubert himself had found a quiet corner, a mug of something he didn’t care to drink in one hand and a half eaten slice of cake before him. 

The bench squeaked as someone took a seat beside him. “I assume you are cross with me,” Edelgard said, taking ownership of his abandoned cake and adding in a disbelieving tone, “Surely even  _ you _ must like this.”

“It’s fine, Lysithea was simply too generous when she cut it.” He passed her his fork. “I am not cross with you. I could never be.”

Edelgard hummed as she took a bite. “But you do not approve.”

“I have been told it matters little whether I approve of today.”

“You were told correctly.”

Hubert smirked. “Then you don’t care that I see the benefit of this?”

Edelgard looked up at him. “Of course I care. It means you are an impostor.”

That actually caused Hubert to chuckle. Together, the two sat and watched the festivities. It had been a long time since Hubert had thought of their army as  _ people _ , rather than just numbers on a spreadsheet. They didn’t just need boots and lances and shields— they needed to laugh and talk and dance. And if Hubert’s birthday was the time they chose to do that, who was he to argue.

But perhaps Bernadetta had a point as well. Perhaps it was high time Hubert enjoyed himself too.

“I assume we have a mountain of meetings planned for tomorrow?” Hubert asked after a time. He took a sip from his mug.

Edelgard watched him with growing amusement. “Naturally.”

Hubert nodded, determined, and stood. “Then may beg a dance from an Emperor?” He asked, bowing deeply. 

With a smile, Edelgard stood and took his outstretched hand. “You may.” She placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Happy birthday, my friend.” 

To the surprise and money exchange of most in attendance, Edelgard led Hubert into the middle of the dancing. Edelgard’s elation was worth the embarrassment of dancing in such a way. Byleth was right to say they had no idea what the world would look like this time next month. Perhaps a single day out of the five years they had spent running towards this battle would be alright. 

As he caught glimpses of Annette and Ferdinand’s haphazard dance, Hubert wondered how many more free days there would be like this. How many broken tables and empty barrels of food were in their future as a result of this party, courtesy of Petra and Ingrid respectively?

Hubert let himself, for just this moment, for just his  _ birthday _ , not to bother keeping track. 


End file.
